


miles outside the eye of the storm

by xshe



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, This is not a romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4903099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xshe/pseuds/xshe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She mocked, but he was right. He was <i>righteous. </i></p><p>Alternately - a 'Cullen is transferred to the chantry the Inquisitor serves in after Kinloch' au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	miles outside the eye of the storm

He'd been stationed in the chantry at Ostwick for over 3 months and had never once heard her voice, despite the hours a day they'd share the library. He was beginning to think she didn't even know he was there until the day she suddenly appeared at his side staring evenly into his helmet, and he felt like he'd missed a step going up the stairs.

“Excuse me, serah. I need a book from a higher shelf.” No inflection, as even as her countenance.

His fool heart leaped into his throat, and he fought down his anxiety as he followed her between the stacks, easily reaching the book she pointed at. As he handed it to her, she nodded her thanks, and turned to head back toward the table with her work.

Maybe it was the stronger ration of lyrium dulling his nerves, maybe it was impulsiveness born of boredom, maybe he just saw an opportunity – but something made him call after her, uncharacteristically.

“So, you're studying genealogy?”

She didn't turn back. “Don't talk to me.”

“I... Excuse me?”

She continued to walk, and he followed her without thought. “I don't like templars.” she stated, matter-of-factly, and he was suddenly acutely aware of the sword on his chest as she continued with her back to him. 

He tried his best to not look offended. “Might I ask why?”

This time she turned, and stared directly at him. “You're all a bunch of idiot zealots who claim to be doing the Makers work, while you do nothing but take us further and further from His light.”

They stared at each other a moment, him dumbstruck and her defiant, and finally his outrage caught up to him. “Excuse me?” He'd said that already, though this time indignant. “Templars protect you. Templars exist to _protect_ _you_.”

Her face didn't change. “I never asked you to. Am I to thank you?”

He scowled, and she tilted her head up to stare him in the eyes. “Thank you, great Ser Templar, for turning the Chant into a weapon to imprison and rape. On behalf of us all, you've done us a great service.”

She was goading him, and she was succeeding. He felt as if there were bees under his skin. “You stand and accuse from your cozy clerical position, comfortable and safe for your entire life. You have no idea. You have _no idea_ what is out there.” he hissed, and she rolled her eyes.

“I'm ever in your debt. I'd prefer to go back to ignoring you, if I may.”

“Be my guest.” he spat out, and stomped back to his doorway, trying not to call unnecessary attention to himself.

 _I will do it without thanks_ , he thought, and tried to calm the beating of his heart. _I will do it without appreciation. I will do what is right._ She mocked, but he was just. He was _righteous_.

Shivers raced up his limbs, and he closed his eyes against the feeling, opened them to see the shelves, the walls, the fucking cleric sitting at the table, all clean of blood and viscera and the shrieks of demons. She had no idea. She had _no idea_. His skin crawled, and he threw himself into his routine, focused on the lyrium in his veins. 

 _Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and wicked and do not falter_ , he murmured into the dark safety of his helmet. _Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just._

The Maker smiled upon his servants, and Cullen knew he needed no thanks.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I mean, in her defense, she wouldn't be so mean if she knew about his miles of baggage. In his defense, he's nuts and has miles of baggage.
> 
> Anyway, if anyone's interested, the idea behind this is a non-mage ink with an apostate lover when she was young. This fic is the outcome when they get taken by the Chantry - to a circle, or made tranquil. The other outcome is they break up amicably, the ink is much happier, the lover is happy and healthy, and Cullen and Trevelyan awkwardly flirt in the chantry. That outcome is here: [ but you found me awake, asleep. ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5901001)


End file.
